Juri and John Smith
by jonray
Summary: Fanfiction and not ment for profit Juri Han, Street Fighter and OC


Fanfiction and not ment for profit  
Juri Han, Street Fighter and OC

Juri and John Smith

The alleyway, wet, dank and dark, with flashes of car lights that came from the street illuminating the building walls, trash and the recyclable bins. Juri, the former SIN solider and vicious Streetfighter, huddled in torment and exhaustion against the wet wall of the blackened building between two bins. Her last fight with Seth had nearly killed her and she knew that the authorities, as always, were after her. She looked around at the sound of a car pulling up at the back of the alley. Shivering as a cold rain drop hit the back of her neck, Juri couldn't help trembling as memories of how she had ended up in the alley came flooding back.

Juri had escaped her captors, SIN her own organisation had tried to kill her, but due to a massive explosion, which Juri had caused with the assistance of strategically placed explosives all around the complex. She had managed to make it out of the underground complex clutching the severed head of the hated Seth, which after a few minutes of running with it, she pulled up to a massive tree covered in vines. Pausing to catch her breath, Juri took time to examine Seth's bloodied head. She took in the last expression on Seth's face in the fading light. She laughed at the stupid cross-eyed look on his face and she giggled at the silent scream his mouth was locked in. Juri grabbed the blood coated tongue and dangled the head in front of her, then with a scream, she dropkicked the severed head of her enemy deep into the tropical jungle growth to decay alone and on it's lonesome in the dark and the filth.

"I fucking hope the ants and maggots finish what I started, you Cunt!" Thought Juri as she wiped the blood from her hands on the sides of her pants.

From the burning SIN base, Juri ran, for what seemed hours apon hours, she didn't stop until she reached the outskirts of a city airport. She didn't know where she was, but it didn't really matter. Jumping security fences and dodging security patrols was a secondhand nature to her skills in life. But securing a flight would be much more difficult.

Although, with a devilish glint in her eye she spotted the luggage trolley that rumbled across the tarmac to the huge red and white 747 that lay waiting and primed to burst in to flight to another country, another life. Taking no chances, she hitched a ride to the looming metal bird and hid herself in the hold and trusted her body's constitution and durability to survive the journey.

This had led her to being in the rain soaked alleyway in a foreign city, in a foreign land and at the mercy of strangers. Glimpsing the parking car and then ducking her head back behind the the green bin to her right, Juri tried her best to summon her strength.

"I can't be seen…" Juri hissed through her teeth. But a weariness, fatigue and not to mention, jetlag, had begun to over take her, as she trembled and huddled in between two smelly dirty plastic bins. The cold rain started to come down soaking her cold shaking huddled form even more.

John Smith, he had always suffered questions and jokes from an early age about his name, that is, until he had started to fill out and become the wide, thick and strong version of his father, undid the seatbelt and picked his fedora up and exited the car as the rain started to turn heavy again. He donned his hat and made his way towards the building's side entrance in the darkened alley which sporadically lit up as the lights from passing traffic bled in. Keeping an eye on the alley's shadows and looking out for any concealed traps or enemies, he was still surprised by the ragged, barely dressed, purple and blood stained white clothed short woman who lay huddled in between two garbage bins. The Asian woman with strangely horned hair style that drooped in the pouring rain, was shivering and even in this state, she reacted and attempted to rise and what only John Smith could think, is attack him. A fist darted out to him, which he deftly caught and then grabbed and then drew her closely to him as she shivered and trembled against his body. John looked down at the little woman he held in his arms and recognised the, SIN so called "Street Fighter" villainess that was wanted in several countries, Juri Han.

But this frail, exhausted little woman in his arms resembled nothing like the police reports or the news segments that described a dangerous criminal killer. But John knew that looks could kill or deceive, but looking in her fierce but faltering eyes (the left was purple and gave off a strange light), John saw a tear well up in her right eye and it became a tear that travelled down her face. Deciding, then and there to offer what he could to this little woman fighter, John effortlessly swept her up and carried her to the buildings lit side entrance as the rain came tumbling down in sheets. His big hands clutched her tightly to him as he gingerly pressed the lock on the door and it activated the voice and print recognition.

"John Smith" was his answer to no question. 


End file.
